


Texts

by PandyMilkovich



Series: White Wall Communications [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bipolar Disorder, M/M, POV Ian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3375032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PandyMilkovich/pseuds/PandyMilkovich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian decides to text Mickey. Hearing his voice is just too much right now. But the conversation he was prepared for was not the one he got.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Texts

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as one of Ian's more lucid moments. I used to work with people who suffered from mental illness, and moments of lucidity were my favorite and most endearing moments with them, so yeah that's why I did that. He is not depressed or manic, simply just being. But I also like this think it's the effect Mickey has on him :)
> 
> Posting from mobile. All mistakes are mine. Unedited. Here goes. Enjoy!

_Three knocks._

_Six knocks._

_Nine knocks_.

He started to pace. 

"Mr. Gallagher?" A voice approaches from behind, "are you okay?" 

"Yeah, fine. Can I have my phone now? It's after nine and you haven't been in your office." Ian bit his nails, peeved with his therapist. 

"Uh, yeah I have it, but I think we should talk about you're wanting to be put on medication," she unlocked and opened the door for the red head to follow, "its wonderful that you have accepted the reality of your situation," unlocked the top drawer, fished inside.

"We have an appointment at two, I'll talk them. My phone?" 

The black haired nuisance sighed. 

"Okay," she reluctantly agreed and handed over the device. 

 

He practiced what he'd say Mickey, stayed up all hours of the night and contemplated every word. 'Sorry' wouldn't cut it, it wasn't enough, nothing would be enough. He scrolled through and looked for the only number he really cared about. 

_Mick._

Sent: Hey...

 **Received** : Gallagher?

_Smiling_

Sent: Yeah...

 **Received** : when the fuck you get your phone back? 

Sent: Yesterday. Sorry I didn't text you sooner, had a lot to catch up on. 

 **Received** : yeah, I bet...can I call you? 

Sent: I'm around a whole bunch of people I'd rather just text, that okay? 

_I'm too afraid to hear your voice, cause I'm afraid it might break me._

**Received** : Yeah that's fine. What are you doing?

 _Thinking about you, all the time. Thinking about how_ _**horrible** I am for you. Thinking about how you deserve someone better. Thinking. Thinking. Thinking. _

Sent: Nothing...pretty boring here.

 **Received** : Wanna do something not boring?

Sent: Not really in a sexting mood, Mick.

 **Received** : Ha fucking Ha shithead. Go to the cafeteria and look out the window.

_What?_

Sent: Uh, okay? Kinda wanted to talk to you about something.

_Hands tremble and knees go weak. Pulse accelerates. Nervous. Of what though? Everything._

**Received** : You always wanna talk Gallagher, but I'm more of a man of action.

 _Smirk._ _Open cafeteria door. Am I_ _walking faster?_

 **Received** : That shit can wait. Got our whole fucking lives to talk, where are you?

_Running._

Sent: Holy Shit!!!!! What are you doing?????

_There he is, sitting on the hood of a car, **that** car. Bright smile of his face when he sees me three floors up looking down at him. _

**Received** : Missed ya

_Wait, I have something to tell him. He needs to hear it. I can't stop looking at him. Heart beats impossibly faster. Smiling so bright._

Sent: I miss you too.

_Don't cry._

**Received** : I'm actually fucking surprised they haven't kicked me off the grounds, I've been here everyday. Fuckers wont let me see you. 

Sent: You've been here everyday???

_The tears have won, I'm crying._

**Received** : Fucking right I have...don't cry. Please.

_I can see them. The blue eyes that I''m powerless to. I wipe my tears._

Sent: Okay...Why did you come?

 **Received** : I told you I fucking missed you man.

_There goes those eyebrows._

**Received** : Slept in Kev's shitty ass truck in the parking lot the first night you were here.

Sent: What? You're insane.

_Shrugs at me and my heart hurts. I need to talk to him, I need to tell him what I practiced._

**Received** : I meant what I said...the voicemail.

Sent: I know...

_My hand meets the glass, I want to touch him, want to hold him again, feel his warmth on me. I'm so cold._

**Received** : Hey Gallagher...take your hand off the glass

 _Laughing, fucking laughing. I forgot what I sound like when I laugh. Press middle finger to glass._ _He's laughing. We're laughing._

Sent: I'm gonna take the meds.

_I wasn't supposed to say that yet, I had a speech. I practiced a speech. The brunette looks worried, but hopeful._

Sent: I have to.

 **Received** : I know.

_I just stare at him, he's looking me in the eye and I need those eyes, those are the only eyes that let me know I'm loved. That I'm going to be okay. Those eyes are my safe haven._

**Received** : This is really fucking gay...but I don't hate it

_Smiling again. How is he doing this? I'm locked in a nut house._

Sent: You've come a long way Milkovich. I'm proud of you :)

 **Received** : Yeah...well...you tell anyone about this i'll knock the teeth out of your head.

_Eye brows and empty threats. I smile cause I know the boy doesn't mean it. I've had butterflies so long that it would be weird if they went away._

Sent: Okay tough guy. 

 **Received** : Hey, lay off my nicknames!

Sent: Don't ya mean Mick-names? Huh? Huh?

 _He doesn't want to laugh at me, but he does._ _Wait, when did it become okay to joke again? Now, I guess._

 **Received** : You're such a loser. 

Sent: Yeah but I picked me a winner :)

 **Received** : Wait, is that in reference to me or boogers?

Sent: Definitely boogers.

 **Received** : You're an asswipe.

_I smile down at him. This is all too comfortable. He looks at me and laughs. I should be sad. I should be crying. But I cant. If even for ten minutes, he's saving me from my own nightmare. How can he do that? How does he do that? He's talking to me like there is nothing wrong with me, like I'm fine. I place my forehead on the glass just to be closer, he looks at me with warmth, so warm I can almost feel it seep through the glass. This is the boy I love. He's here, giving me exactly what I need, something I didn't even know I needed._

**Received** : When can I come see your lanky ass?

Sent: Not sure, I have an appointment with the therapist today, she'll let me know.

 **Received** : Fiona hasn't told me much, she has a lot of shit going on.

_Is he hanging out with my family enough to know about said 'shit' that goes on in their lives. When did this happen?_

**Received** : Said ya called her a couple times asking to be picked up...

_I watch Mickey's face fall, he's scared._

Sent: Yeah...well...she didn't and I don't want her to anymore.

_I want to be better for you, I want to go home and lay in our bed and tell you how much i love you and how I couldn't do this without you and I'm sorry._

**Received** : Good. Do you want me to come back tomorrow?

_I want you for every tomorrow..._

Sent: Are you leaving?

_Don't leave yet. I love you too. I love you too. I'm scared. Don't leave._

**Received** : No...I'm not going anywhere. How long you got your phone for?

Sent: Till 3...I have an appointment at 2 though.

 **Received** : Wanna play Words With Friends?

Sent: Seriously?

 **Received** : Uh, yeah I'm fucking serious. Unless you got a better idea.

_I want to tell you what I planned to tell you. I need you to know. I want you to know. Wait, do you already know? Do you know me so well that I don't even have to say it?_

Sent: Nope. 

 

 

Ian doesn't leave the window, he doesn't stop staring at his boyfriend. They play the game and he watches the older boy get frustrated and yell, 'fuck you, that is a word!!' about nine times. Ian was in awe. In awe of this man he was unconditionally in love with, this man he didn't deserve, this man who made him feel so normal even when he wasn't. He would go on the medication for Mickey and only for Mickey. This was a gift that Ian could give the shorter boy, a gift that made him happy. After all, Mickey had given so much of himself to the red head for the exact same reason, it only seemed fair.

**1:49pm**

Sent: I have to go Mick, my appointment.

_I dont want to walk away from this window, but I have to. I have to get better for this man I'm looking at. I have to do it for him._

**Received** : Okay. Same place tomorrow?

_Don't cry. Don't cry!_

Sent: Yeah.

 **Received** : Don't cry. I'm coming back tomorrow...and the next day...and the fucking next day...all the fucking days. okay?

Sent: Okay....I don't want to walk away.

 **Received** : I know. You're gonna be fine. Okay? Just go get better. 

_He wants to say I love you, I can see him bite his lip and thumb at his forehead, he's typing. I bang at the glass and hope its loud enough, he looks up._

Sent: Dont!

Sent: Don't text it. Just wait, okay?

_He's looking at me, his eyes saying what I asked his fingers not to type._

**Received** : Okay...now fucking go.

_He is smiling and waving me off. I need to get better. I am sick. And I need to get better._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to make this a three part series. I feel they are slightly OOC in this, but I'm happy with how it came out. Hope its okay. Comments and Kudos, as always, are mucho loved. Thanks.


End file.
